Father, it's Me Again
by verfens
Summary: Gilbert is a young boy trapped within a tangled web of lies, deception, and his 'sin'. Will the girl who stumbled upon him be able to save him from himself? Or will Elizabeta leave him as everyone else has? Sister to Father, Forgive my Sins. PruHun.
1. Lord Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace

Thursday, January 30, y

Hello Father, It's Me

Chapter 1: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

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He was a sin. He knew that. He was told from the earliest memories that he was born of sin, that he was a demon, a sin, a mistake. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt him to think about it.

His mother was yelling at Father Beilschmidt again. "If you don't kill it, I swear to god I am going to have a miscarriage with this one from stress!" She swore, using the lord's name in vain, which was a sin. Like himself, of course, so he had nowhere to be talking, he supposed, because that would be hypocrisy.

The pregnant woman who had given birth to him stormed out of the room, not even looking at the sin she had been cursing out, asking a priest to destroy not even a minute ago. Gilbert watched her slam the church door and leave in the dead of night, just as she always did when she came at all.

He didn't dare say a word, lest he say something that would offend someone, and he did not want to offend anyone, especially not those who were among him. They were the angels of death, the only people he knew. So he held his breath for a few moments, waiting for the priests to make their decisions.

It was the middle of her pregnancy with her second child, though this one would be her first official child, because Gilbert was a sin, a demon with eyes red like blood, and skin so pale he could see his threads that held him together throughout his body. This child would come complete with a father, and they were moving to Germany- The fatherland to Father Beilschmidt. The Father and the woman were planning on fleeing the country and the small town they lived in after destroying the last sin they committed here.

He, Gilbert, was that sin. The Demon of the Church was his full name. He was a curse on the lips of man.

Father Vargas walked over to talk with Father Beilschmidt, to talk about something the little five year old boy didn't understand. The demon of the church went to his only true home, the Sanctuary in the upper level of the church, walking solemnly up the stairs. Once he reached it he noticed that the room was a little dusty, so he was probably going to have to clean it before he was killed.

He looked at the bible, which he had practically committed to memory. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For thou art with me…" He muttered to himself, trying to comfort himself over his upcoming, abrupt end to his miserable existence, and failing horribly. He felt tears gather at the corner of his eyes as he put the book back in its place on the shelf.

It wasn't fair! He hadn't done _anything_. He had just been born, and he didn't ask for that. He wished the woman who had given birth to him would allow him to call her mom, and that his grandfather would give him something other than stern looks. He wished he could go outside and play.

But he knew that wasn't possible. He was ultimately a sin borne from the woman, a demon who would only stain others, according to her.

He heard the stairs creak, and he turned around to see Father Vargas. His heart pounded inside his chest, but he swallowed his tears, his pleas for life, because he was going to be with God again-or he would be condemned to hell if he hadn't done enough in his short life. Father Vargas' wise eyes looked down at him, filled with pity, before saying, "I can't kill you. And neither can Woden." He knelt down on one knee, to be eye level with the boy he was talking to, looking through his blood red eyes of sin with his wise pair of molten brown.

"So there is only one thing we can do, son." Gilbert gulped, red eyes shutting tight, not willing to see what was going to come.

"How well you can hide, Gilbert?" Father Vargas asked him, and put one of his calloused hands on Gilbert's shoulder. "I need to know. How well can you take care of yourself and this church?"

Gilbert tried to swallow his fear at the serious look in Father Vargas' eyes. "S-sir…I-I can t-take care of m-myself, b-but not v-very well…." He stuttered, flinching when the Priest tightened his grip on his shoulder. He looked into Father Vargas' eyes, and saw determination in them.

"I'll just have to teach you then. May God let me live long enough to do that, and may He show mercy on all our souls," Father Vargas spoke solemnly, and Gilbert nodded absently. He needed Father Vargas to live long enough to make sure the boy knew how to take proper care of the church, so that he would not desecrate it with his very presence.

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That would be how he would live for most of his childhood. Alone.

When he was seven, Father Vargas came to the church one last time. "Gilbert…." The man coughed. "I'm afraid I am going to join the lord soon." Gilbert's red eyes, which were focused on the floor, widened, tears gathering in the corners. It was only the occasional visit from the Priest that kept the boy from being completely alone.

The elderly man knelt down to his eye level, and used one of his calloused hands to force Gilbert to look into his eyes. "Gil. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry this happened to you." He put his arms around the boy. "You shouldn't have had to deal with this, you are so young…"

The boy simply stood still in the elderly man's arms. What was this? He didn't know…What was he doing? Was he trying to strangle him? Mrs. Kaltherzig had done that from time to time….

But Father Vargas noticed how tense the boy had become, and let him go, trying his best not to let his disappointment in Gilbert's lack of understanding of basic human gestures show. But Gilbert saw it.

I'm a sin, and he's disappointed he's too weak to kill me…. Gilbert berated himself once more, and Father Vargas sighed.

"I came here to give you this." He held up a package. "It has a picture of your brother in it." With those words, Gilbert looked up at the priest with a questioning gaze.

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H-Hello Father, in heaven. It's me, Gilbert. But I guess you already know that….

Father Vargas told me that I need to pray, for I am born of sin, and hopes that you are forgiving enough to show mercy on all of our souls, for the sake of your son, Jesus Christ.

I-I know that I shouldn't be selfish, even though I want someone-anyone- to care for me, to be there for me.

Father Beilschmidt left with my mother to Europe, along with her betrothed, and her child. I wish them all a happy journey, to arrive safely. I pray that my brother will be better off than I am-that she will care for him, and keep him safe. I pray that you may show mercy on my mother, for she is human, and is misguided in wishing for the death of her eldest child, but then again, I'm not a child, I am a demon….so why would you be listening.

I'm going to pretend you are listening anyways. Otherwise, I'll go mad for sure.

I pray that Father Vargas will live for a few more years before joining you, and that when he does join you, he will be greeted among Angels for he is my savior. He did not kill me, and you did not take me, and for that, I thank you.

But most of all Father, I pray that you may care for someone like me, love me as you are said to despite the sin of my birth, my sin. I pray that you may love me even though I am a sin. For I love you with everything inside me, even though I do not have anything to give. I love you, Lord, even though I have nothing to prove that with.

I only ask that I may bring peace to this town, that no one may want more, even if I must die for that peace to be attained. I only want my mother, my brother and the two fathers to live happily. I want you to make me something that will bring peace, even though I am a sin. Make me an instrument of your peace. It's one of my favorite hymns, so fitting for right now, I guess.

Now then, I should probably go to bed now, it's rather late, and I don't want to bother you any longer….

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

And should I die before I wake,

I pray the lord my soul to take.

Amen.

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	2. Where There is Hatred, Let me Sow Love

Hello Father, It's Me

Chapter 2: Where there is hatred, let me sow love

A/N: I am aware this story is sad. I never said it would be happy. I just said there is a good old happy ending for those who are patient. :D

Thank you to all who have read, alerted, faved, this story! But most of all, thank you everyone who has reviewed and given me encouragement and feedback!

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He was tired. It was a feeling that was in his very bones. As he finished the chores he could do by himself, he grabbed his wool blanket, and settled onto the pews. He could feel the inside of his stomach scraping at his being, begging him for something, anything, but he had nothing but bread to give it. And that bread was his dinner.

He hoped that sleeping for a little while would help quell his hunger. Even though on the inside he knew that when he woke up he'd be even _hungrier….._

…..but that aside. He was tired and hungry and desperate for a small escape. He pulled the blanket over his face, wrapping up inside it like it was a cocoon, and fell into dreamless, restless, uneasy sleep.

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He was suddenly disturbed by the feeling of a finger pressing into his cheek. The second thing he noticed that he was suddenly a lot colder. His blanket had been pulled off of him. "Hey, wake up." It was an unfamiliar voice- young, feminine- and it ordered him. Gilbert squeezed his eyes closed, before he slowly opened them. Looking up, he made a strange sound that sounded suspiciously frightened. A young face was right in his own, scaring the daylights out of him.

She, he noted, had the prettiest pair of eyes. They weren't red like his own, nor were they brown, nor blue. They were a shade of green with golden flecks shining in the meager light. But he couldn't trust her. He had to know why she was here, as a last remembrance to Father Vargas' wish that he stay away from his mother. "What are you doing here?" He demanded, looking at her with everything scary in him. Which obviously wasn't much, as she pressed on.

"Are you the demon of the church?" Her strange eyes flashed, and he felt such a horrible feeling that she didn't even know why he was here, but was already judging him. He had nothing. In his tired mind, he wanted to argue, to push out against his fate….

"I'm not a Demon!" He was only half-arguing, and her asking that question had only fermented the belief in his mind. He felt tears in his eyes, and on his aching legs, he got up and ran to the sanctuary upstairs. He heard her follow her, but he grabbed his trusty pet rocks, ( a present from Father Beilschmidt) and threw them down at her so that she wouldn't come after him, so that she wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't see his tears. He heard her mumble something, before she walked away.

He locked himself into a confessional that was partially broken, and let the tears run free. She didn't know him, and she already knew he was a sin. She didn't know his mother, but she knew the bare basics. Children were afraid of him because of his stained soul.

As he stopped crying, not having anything else to give, a part of him wanted her to leave, so that she wouldn't be stained by him. Another part of him, however, longed for someone, anyone, to talk to him, to touch him. He had been starved of human contact, and found himself yearning to see her once more, just to prove that she hadn't been imagined by his desperation.

He quietly unlocked the confessional, and sneaked down the stairs. She had gone out into the garden. He could see her kneeling by the pond that he had a lot of trouble cleaning. She was….different. She wore a dress that fit her form, but didn't look like his mother. She looked pretty. Instead of sharp, blond hair, she had an earthy brown that shone in the small amount of light that came from the setting sun.

So he hadn't imagined him. But now he was frozen. Unable to move, unable to look away, unable to touch her to see that she wasn't a mirage. He wanted to touch her, but he didn't want the dream to end if it actually was a dream.

"They're very pretty." Her voice, strong and proud and not unlike a songbird, rang out in the garden, obviously meant for his ears. He blushed slightly, before she turned around to face him. She was smiling at him, causing his heart to thump in his chest. No one had smiled at him since he was seven, two years ago, before Father Vargas disappeared. "Hello there, I shouldn't have been so blunt with you." She stood up and faced him, and his eyes widened as she continued to smile at him. No one smiled in the face of sin. "My name is Elizabeta. Why are you here?"

So she didn't know? He hesitated for a moment, but he wanted to tell someone, anyone, he wanted to speak to someone other than the Lord, because even though he loved the Father, he hadn't seen another human being for two years. "…Because I'm a sin." He saw her frown; her pretty eyes becoming troubled like Father Beilschmidt's had when Gilbert had asked him about his mother and father. He felt panic take him over, but shoved it back down. He had been alone for this long. He could deal with being alone once more, even if it hurt. He shouldn't lie to her, for that was a sin.

"What do you mean by that?" She questioned, sounding confused, tilting her head slightly to the right. He looked down, unable to meet her eyes.

"Even you said it…I'm the demon of the church."

"Why's that?" She sounded determined to get to the bottom of it all, and he felt hope take root in his chest. She wasn't afraid that he was a sin! It was some form of a miracle. He looked up at her, before speaking.

"Father Beilschmidt told me I was the sin born of a sin. A demon born of sin thrice evil as the first act of sin committed. I was cursed with this body as proof of that sin." He looked at her, and felt his pain seeping out through his very soul, and her enchanting green eyes softened, and she tried a response.

"N-No, even if Father Beilschmidt told you that, I'm sure-" He cut her off before he could let pointless hope seep farther into his heart, only to be shattered at a later date. He didn't want that to happen.

"Father Vargas told me I was a sin too, but he also had also sinned once, and told me that someone had to show me how to repent. But…he said the difference was that he was bound in holy matrimony, unlike Father Beilschmidt." He shrugged, nonchalantly, trying to seem as though he was used to hearing it. Which he was, but that didn't mean he _liked_ being told he was a sin.

"Eliza!" Another unfamiliar voice called out, sounding panicked, and Gilbert felt himself freeze up. "Are you still alive? It's been ten minutes!" The boy took off at a run, leaving the door way and going to hide on the staircase, so he was able to look at the girl for just a little bit longer. His body cried out in pain against it, bones practically moaning as he ran.

He heard her call back, "I'm fine, Roderich!" Before he saw her start to leave. One part of him was thankful, but another, larger part of him cried out for him to stop her from leaving. He wanted her to stay! He wanted to talk to her, to be able to touch her! Why was she leaving?! But she left the church, the door slamming with a resounding bang.

Gilbert's heart ached.

_Come back…_ he thought feebly, before leaving the staircase to look out the dusty window. He caught one final glimpse of her leaving with a boy with brown hair, who looked shaken, and she punched a boy with blond hair in the arm, looking angry.

He wanted her back in here with him. As she smiled at the brown-haired boy, he remembered when she smiled at _him_ like that. He wanted her to do it again.

He walked up to the pews, and knelt, before he started to pray.

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Hello Father, it's me again. I wonder if You actually have the time to listen to me every day. You're probably too busy to listen to me. Yeah. But I think that you're the only one who _would_ be willing to listen to me….

Did You send me an angel Father? Elizabeta's pretty enough to be one, for sure. She wasn't frightened by my evil eyes, red like blood, nor was she deterred by the fact I told her I was a sin. In fact, she tried to tell me otherwise. If she is one of Your servants, I thank You for sending me her. I had lost faith that I would ever see another human, and for that, I beg Your forgiveness. You have a divine plan, and I will dutifully carry out Your will.

However….I ask for only one thing. I ask that I see her again, for she is a bright light in a life of darkness, and though I have Your love, I pray that one day I shall see her again. I would love to see her again, Father. If she is indeed an Angel, I pray that she will find the time to visit me again from Heaven.

Where there is Hatred, let me sow love. I want to be forgiven in Your eyes, O heavenly Father. I want people to not hate me. I want to be around people. I don't want to be alone any more. Please, Father…I want everyone to love, so that no one will ever be alone again. I pray that even though I might always be alone, that the Angel I met today is never alone. Let her be loved, never let her encounter the hate I have known in my life.

Do not find me selfish for praying for this….for I love You above all else….but….

Almighty God, hear this relationship prayer.  
As You are first in my heavenly heart and mind and spirit,  
so do I desire a companion for my earthly heart and mind and being.  
Guide me to the partner You know is perfect for me.  
Help me walk in faith until that time of our first meeting.  
Show me how I can become a partner worthy of love.  
Then guide me through every stage of our relationship,  
so that, as we move ever closer to You, we grow closer to  
each other in Love, in Joy, and in Faith.  
Thank You God, for hearing my prayer. Amen!

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A/N: Once again, those who are new to this story, you don't need to read the sister story to this, but I would love it if you would give me feedback on how I'm doing with both of these stories.

Father, Forgive my Sins is told from Elizabeta's point of view, and it is farther along plot-wise.

Now then. Please review?


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